Sometimes The Truth Hurts
by Vaughn 247
Summary: real original title, huh? Well, SD-6 has been gone for 3 yrs, but Sloane is nowhere to be found. Sydney has a new life, new identity, and new boyfriend. What will happen when Vaughn reappears in her life 3 yrs after they last saw e/other?
1. Chapter 1

All right. This is another fic of Syd and Vaughn.lol. SD-6 is gone, and it's been 3 years since Sloane disappeared that day. It's also been three years since Sydney last saw Vaughn. This is a little break from "Drowning" - major writer's block on that. Lol.  
  
  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Sydney looked at her students who were all bent over their desks trying to finish the test. This was her third year at S. Lewis High School in Michigan. She had wanted to teach elementary school first, but there were no open spaces for her. Instead, she got a job as an AP English teacher for the twelfth graders. Sydney knew it was going to be hard, not just teaching students for the first time, but also pretending to be someone she wasn't.  
  
"Excuse me, Ms. Brown?" a timid voice called from the back of the room.  
  
"Yes Nicole?" Sydney responded.  
  
"How much time is left in the period?"  
  
"Fifteen minutes," Sydney replied, consulting her watch. She never trusted the school clocks.  
  
"Thank you," Nicole said, turning back to her test.  
  
Ms. Brown, Sydney thought. Ms. Lily Brown. That's who I am now. Even though SD-6 was gone, the CIA - mainly Vaughn - had insisted her to go under an alias. Sloane could still be alive, they reasoned with her. He might come after you - and kill you. That was Vaughn. Thinking about Vaughn made her feel sad and empty. They had both decided that it was be best if they didn't communicate any longer. Well, I was the one who said that, she thought. Vaughn was hurt, I could tell - but he agreed.for different reasons, of course. Sydney knew if she let Vaughn get close to her, he would be dead within a year - according to statistics. But Vaughn managed to convince the both of them that Sloane might be aware of their contacts, and track Sydney down through Vaughn - and Vaughn wasn't about to let that happen. So it had been three years and five months and six days since they had last seen and spoken to each other. Sydney had not received any news about Vaughn since then either.  
  
A knock on the door caused everyone to look up. The handsome smiling face of the American History teacher, Patrick James appeared in the side panels.  
  
Sydney groaned but smiled at the same time. He was a great distraction from her thoughts about Vaughn. Although Patrick was not as good-looking at Michael Vaughn, he was charming and friendly. But then again, no one was as good-looking as her ex-handler, she thought remorsefully.  
  
"What are you waiting for Ms. Brown?" the class clown, Jacob Keelson grinned. All the students knew about Ms. Brown and Mr. James' little relationship. And they thought it was "cool."  
  
Sydney rose from her desk and headed towards the door. She closed the door behind her, but managed to keep an eye on Patrick, and another eye on her students.  
  
"What is it?" Sydney whispered. "They're taking a test."  
  
"I can tell," Patrick grinned.  
  
Sydney was disappointed to see the smooth forehead every time Patrick smiled. But she focused on present time.  
  
"Lily.I'm here to ask you out on a date," Patrick started.  
  
"Patrick.you're interrupting -"  
  
"Can you come with me to my parents' house? They're all dying to meet you," he finished.  
  
"Your parents?"  
  
He nodded.  
  
Sydney smiled at a student who passed by at that moment, then turned to look at Patrick. No doubt, there was going to be tons of rumors whirling around school about them today.  
  
"Your parents?" Sydney repeated.  
  
"Yes. We've been dating for almost two years Lily. They want to know who this lady I've become so infatuated with is," Patrick said sweetly.  
  
She blushed. "The period's almost over. Catch me after class."  
  
--  
  
And he did. The second she stepped out her classroom, a pair of hands covered her eyes. Sydney's spy instincts kicked in - she whirled around, breaking free from his grasp, and sighed.  
  
"Patrick, you have to stop doing that," she reprimanded.  
  
"All right. I'm sorry," he responded, draping one arm across her shoulders. He took her books and carried them in the other. If it was Vaughn.would he offer to carry my books? Sydney thought childishly. Yeah, he would. Hell, he could carry me.  
  
"So, what do you think?" Patrick asked, as they walked towards the faculty parking lot.  
  
"About what?" Sydney replied distractedly.  
  
"About dinner with my parents. They're nice people Lily," he said.  
  
"I'm sure they are. When is this dinner?" Sydney asked, taking her books from him.  
  
"Tonight. I know this is last minute, very last minute, but I just found out today too. My mom called me in the morning when I -"  
  
"It's all right Patrick. Is it a formal dinner? At their house?"  
  
"It's kinda formal. They like dressing up for guests. And yes, it's at their house. I could pick you up at around seven," Patrick suggested, pausing by Sydney's car as she fumbled for the key.  
  
"Sure. I'll see you then," she smiled.  
  
"k. Love you," Patrick replied, returning the smile.  
  
"Yeah," Sydney said softly, watching him approach his own vehicle.  
  
-- --------------------------------- so what'd you think? Lol.I'd love to hear your thoughts about this.  
  
There'll be some Vaughn stuff later on. Or maybe in the next chapter. I haven't written it yet. lol 


	2. Chapter 2

- just because everyone was so nice, you all get a new chapter! It's pretty boring.lol. Enjoy!  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 2  
  
"Are you sure about this?" Sydney asked, pausing in front of his parents' house.  
  
"Absolutely. They're going to love you. Quit worrying for a second why don't ya?" Patrick teased, ringing the doorbell.  
  
Sydney shivered. She had not yet gotten used to the cold freezing winters of Michigan. LA was always warm. This change of climate was not welcome. Three years of this, and the snow was the only thing she liked.  
  
The door flew open, revealing a smiling face of a woman. She had the same blue eyes as Patrick, but while Patrick's hair was blonde, hers was brown.  
  
"You must be Lily!" she smiled. "I'm Nancy. Come in!"  
  
Sydney had to smile.  
  
"Fine Ma, don't say hi to your darling son," Patrick sniffed, helping Sydney take off her jacket.  
  
"I was getting to you Patrick," Nancy turned to look at her son. "My, Lily, you look so beautiful."  
  
Sydney blushed as Patrick nodded his head in agreement.  
  
"She's right you know. You look very pretty," Patrick said, smiling at Sydney.  
  
Sydney's face was frozen in a strained smile. That phrase.Vaughn had said it years ago.  
  
"Where's dad?" Patrick asked, sticking his head into the living room.  
  
"Oh, him," Nancy groaned. "The old man's cooking."  
  
"He volunteered to cook?" Patrick asked incredulously.  
  
"He insisted," Nancy corrected. "The last time he cooked was when you got the job at Lewis."  
  
"I remember."  
  
Sydney snapped out of her thoughts and joined the conversation. "Am I missing something?"  
  
"Nick's not a big fan of cooking," Nancy started.  
  
"But he's really good at it," Patrick interjected.  
  
Should I feel special? Sydney asked herself. Shaking the thought off, she smiled. "That's really nice of him. Does he need any help?"  
  
"Oh no, no - he has to work alone," Nancy mimicked.  
  
"Talking about me?" came a jolly voice from the kitchen, followed by a loud rattle of pots and pans.  
  
"Patrick and Lily are here!"  
  
A balding man burst through the door of the kitchen.  
  
"Hm." he said thoughtfully, glancing at Sydney. "She's a looker, son."  
  
"Dad . . ." Patrick groaned.  
  
Sydney stared at her hands, as there was nothing else to look at.  
  
"You made her nervous!" Nancy clucked.  
  
"I'll give her a tour of the house while you two do whatever you two want to do, all right?" Patrick said, leading Sydney up the stairs.  
  
"Sorry about that," he said as his parents were out of earshot.  
  
"It's all right. They're really nice," Sydney replied.  
  
Patrick snickered. "Yeah. This over here, was my room . . ."  
  
--  
  
"So, Lily, tell us about yourself," Nick suggested, passing the plate of mashed potatoes to his son.  
  
"Um, my name is Lily Brown. . ." Sydney started uncomfortably.  
  
"Did you come from New York? Patrick said that you graduated NYU," Nancy interrupted.  
  
Sydney nodded. "Born and raised there."  
  
"Did you want to be a teacher all your life?" Nancy questioned.  
  
"Basically, yes. I'm still working on becoming a Lit. professor at NYU," Sydney replied, remembering her cover story. She could never forget it. Hours were spent poring over the story, filling in all the holes, and creating the identification and certificates to go with it.  
  
"So, tell me. . .did you have a significant other before Patrick?" Nick grinned, wiping his mouth with a napkin.  
  
"Dad!" Patrick exclaimed.  
  
Sydney looked down. "To be honest, yes. I did. But he died."  
  
"Oh my," Nancy gasped. "You poor darling."  
  
Patrick sat there, stunned. He had not known that little tidbit about Lily. But then again, he had never asked. What guy would want to know? Or rather, what guy would actually ask?  
  
"It's all right," Sydney sniffed. "It's been a while."  
  
--  
  
Sydney dropped her purse on her bed and collapsed onto it. Who knew a dinner could be that strength consuming? Nick and Nancy were darlings, but she knew she wasn't supposed to be there. She was not that serious about Patrick, even though they have been dating for years now. . .He was just a distraction. A distraction from her real prince with the white horse.  
  
But Vaughn's out of the picture. He's been out of my life for years, she thought. I can't believe I yelled at him the last time I saw him. Sydney remembered their last meeting vividly.  
  
It was the first time she was at the warehouse before Vaughn. He was ten minutes late. He was never late. Then exactly twelve minutes later, he ran through the gates with a worried look on his face. She thought he would have been happy - SD 6 was gone. But instead, words like "the Witness Protection Program" and "dangerous" poured out of his mouth at an alarmingly fast rate. Then he told Sydney that Sloane was not captured. He had escaped before the agents got there. Apparently, he had been warned beforehand. "He could come after you," Vaughn warned. Sydney had argued, saying that she had had enough with this spying and hiding life. That she wanted it to be over. "I thought you'd be happy Vaughn. We can be seen in public together," Sydney tried. Vaughn had interrupted her, a pained look on his face. And with the two little words, "I can't," Vaughn had shattered Sydney's hopes. Angry words fell from Sydney's mouth, and within seconds, she had stormed out of their meeting place.  
  
"I hope I never see you again," were her last words.  
  
How true they turned out to be, Sydney thought sardonically.  
  
It was her father who had presented her with her new identity, revealing no words about Vaughn. In fact, her handler was not even mentioned in any of their conversations.  
  
She grabbed the phone from her night table, and dialed the familiar numbers.  
  
"Hello?" came a deep voice. 


	3. Chapter 3

- this is a boring chapter. Haha. But hey, it's getting closer to Vaughn! =)  
  
Chapter 3  
  
"Will? It's me," she said into the mouthpiece.  
  
"Hey! What's up?" Will asked, careful not to say her name.  
  
"Not much. Same old. How's everything in LA?" Sydney inquired, leaning against the headboard of her bed.  
  
"Still amazingly warm for this time of year. Francie's restaurant is going well," Will responded. "Apparently, she has gotten good reviews from the LA Times, and people are flooding the place as we speak."  
  
"Wow," Sydney replied. "Tell her I said hi."  
  
"Will do. Hey, how is Patrick?"  
  
Sydney sighed. "He's fine. Just came back from dinner with his parents."  
  
"His parents?" Will said incredulously. "Uh."  
  
"Anyway, how's work?" she changed the subject.  
  
The last time Sydney saw Will, he was a desk agent at the CIA, good friends with Vaughn, and grateful that the CIA committee overlooked his so- called "criminal record."  
  
"It's actually really fun. I know I'm not supposed to say that work is fun, but I met so many people. It's hectic actually, but interesting."  
  
Sydney could almost see Will's smiling face.  
  
"How's uh." Sydney started, then stopped herself. She was that close to asking about Vaughn.  
  
"Your father?" Will said smoothly, although he probably knew who Sydney was asking about.  
  
"Yes. My father. Is he still up and running?" Sydney sighed.  
  
"Yes. Literally. I see him sometimes when he's on his daily jog," Will laughed.  
  
"His what?"  
  
"Daily jog?"  
  
"He runs?" Sydney giggled.  
  
"Apparently. Hey . . . I have to go to work now," Will said suddenly. "Some meeting."  
  
Sydney almost laughed at the irony. She was always the one who used work as the reason to end a conversation, but now it was Will's turn.  
  
"Sure. Tell everyone I miss 'em," Sydney said softly.  
  
--  
  
Will placed the phone back into its cradle, and stared down at it. These conversations with Sydney were getting strained and awkward for some reason he couldn't understand.  
  
He had asked Vaughn why they couldn't just have a secret meeting with Sydney sometime - so they could talk in person. That was when he learned not to say the word "Sydney" in front of Vaughn.  
  
Francie had been told about Sydney and her spy-life, and was extremely composed when Vaughn had laid it out for her. And since Sydney had "moved out," Will now occupied the guest room. Francie claimed she felt lonely, all by herself in the house, so she asked Will if he wanted to move in. He did.  
  
"Will?" Francie called from the kitchen.  
  
"Hm?"  
  
"Who was that? Was it -"  
  
"Yeah," Will replied, walking to the kitchen, where Francie was making dinner.  
  
"How is she? Is she all right?" Francie asked, placing some pans in the sink.  
  
"She's fine. She just came back from dinner - with Patrick and his parents," Will said, leaning against the doorframe.  
  
"They're getting a little serious, aren't they?" Francie questioned, pulling the refrigerator door open.  
  
Will nodded absently. "But -"  
  
"Vaughn. I know. It's really frustrating, isn't it? Hell, if it's aggravating me, then how frustrating must it be for those two?" Francie sighed, pulling out a cardboard box of eggs.  
  
"Oh, damn . . . Fran, I gotta meet Vaughn -"  
  
"Go ahead. But be back for dinner," Francie reminded, waving a spatula at him.  
  
-- 


	4. Chapter 4

- wow, you guys are lucky! Getting all these chapters within days from e/other.hehe. I don't usually write this fast. I guess I'm intrigued by this storyline too.'cept I don't know how I'm gonna make it work the way I want it to [I don't even know what I want to do w/ this.] --- basically all dialogue . . .  
  
  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Vaughn waved Will into his office as he hung up the phone.  
  
"Hey," Vaughn greeted, standing up. He reached for his coat and draped it over his arm. "I seriously don't know why I carry this around. It's sixty degrees outside. . ."  
  
Will snickered. "Hey, why don't you join Francie and I for dinner tonight?"  
  
"It's all right Will. I'm not a lonely old man . . . yet, but thanks for the offer," Vaughn replied, waiting for Will to exit the office. He followed suit, turned off the lights, and closed the door behind him.  
  
"I'm serious. Plus, Francie cooks more than we can stuff. Next month when Christmas comes, I could join the masses of Santas in LA," Will insisted.  
  
Vaughn laughed.  
  
"You're coming. No buts," Will said, cutting Vaughn off.  
  
"Bu - Will. . ."  
  
"Quit it Vaughn. You're our friend. We don't want you alone in your house with that slobbering dog of yours," Will joked, following Vaughn down the familiar halls.  
  
"He's not a "slobbering dog!" Vaughn exclaimed indignantly, casting an evil glare at Will. "You're just saying that because you seem to be his potty."  
  
"Hey, you would feel like this if a strange little dog peed on you!"  
  
"Donovan's not "strange." If he could hear you now . . ." Vaughn threatened.  
  
Will let out another snicker.  
  
"So, the reason I called you was because Devlin read your report. He's giving you the OK to look deeper into it. Any research materials you might need are going to be made available. Just stay out of the FBI's way," Vaughn warned. "Or else they'd take your information away from you and claim it as their property."  
  
"Seriously? Wow . . .it was an interesting subject. Does this mean that the Alliance may be on its way down?"  
  
"We're not sure yet," Vaughn replied. "But hopefully, yes."  
  
"Great. So does that mean - oh, uh, never mind," Will cut himself short. He was about to ask if it meant Sydney could return to LA and get her life back.  
  
Vaughn was silent. He obviously heard Will's unspoken question.  
  
A soft inaudible "I hope so" came from his lips, but was carried away from the wind in the parking lot.  
  
--  
  
"Vaughn! How nice of you to show up!" Francie grinned, pulling Vaughn into the house.  
  
"Will told me he invited you, but you were reluctant."  
  
"I didn't want to intrude," Vaughn apologized, laughing as Francie dragged him to the dining room.  
  
"Intrude? Nonsense," Francie laughed. "Seriously, you're welcome here all the time."  
  
"Thanks," Vaughn smiled, settling in the seat diagonally from Will's.  
  
"Took you long enough," Will said sarcastically. "What? Are you turning into a girl now? Huh? Only girls spend an hour fixing up."  
  
"For your information, I took a "strange little dog" out for a jog," Vaughn retorted.  
  
"Donovan! How is the little thing?" Francie asked, placing a large steaming pot on the table.  
  
"He's fine. Something smells good," Vaughn commented.  
  
"It'd better smell good," Francie responded, pulling off her apron. "I had to run to the store to get some supplies."  
  
"By supplies, she means groceries," Will added.  
  
"Hey, so how's work?" Francie asked, taking a seat next to Will.  
  
"Same old. It's starting to get routine. But hey, it pays, so why am I complaining?"  
  
"Because with a normal, paying job, you don't have the constant notion that you might get killed any day during work," Francie supplied reasonably.  
  
"Yeah, well, I knew what I was getting into," Vaughn replied, helping himself to a portion of mashed potatoes drowned in gravy.  
  
"Hey . . . I just got an idea," Francie said suddenly. "Your mother's in France now, right?"  
  
Vaughn nodded his head slowly, not grasping Francie's train of thought.  
  
"And Thanksgiving's next week . . ." Will added.  
  
"Oh no," Vaughn protested. "I can't. I mean, I don't want . . . I mean -"  
  
"Listen to yourself," Francie chided, "you sound like a kid."  
  
"Then why don't we have a Thanksgiving party of sorts? I'm sick of all the small dinners," Will complained.  
  
"What a great idea Will," Francie grinned. "We could have it here, and I could cook! It's settled. We just need a list of people."  
  
"How about Weiss?" Will suggested.  
  
"His girlfriend would have to come too then," Vaughn said suddenly.  
  
"Great! Now you're a host too, so you'd better act as one," Francie warned.  
  
Interrupting Vaughn, Will exclaimed, "And we could invite Daryl from your restaurant Francie."  
  
Francie half-smiled, half-blushed. "Why don't we do this when we finish eating? Food's getting cold."  
  
--  
  
Vaughn smiled in spite of himself as he settled on the couch in the living room. He rested his legs on the table, and brought a glass of water to his lips. Francie's Thanksgiving party would take his mind off the problems surrounding his life. Thanksgivings were always hard on him - being that he had very little to be thankful for. Now that Sydney was gone, there was nothing to be grateful for. His family, of course, was an exception. But that only consisted of his mother.  
  
Sydney . . . Vaughn thought. He hadn't seen her, or heard from her in years. The last bit of information he had heard concerning Sydney Bristow was that she had boarded a plane to Michigan. She walked onto a United Airlines Flight 004 to Detroit, Michigan . . . and out of his life. Not only that, but she walked away from him on a bad note. I guess she got what she wanted, Vaughn thought bitterly. Her last words to him echoed in his head.  
  
_______________  
  
So, what'd ya think? Personally, I think it could've been better . . . it sounds stupid when I read it over. But I hate reading my stuff over [cuz then I'll realize how pathetic something sounds] . . . so it's all good. Lol  
  
THANK YOU ALL FOR REVIEWING THIS!!! 


	5. Chapter 5

- Thank you so much for the WONDERFUL reviews!! I love reading them!  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 5  
  
"So what's this I hear about dinner with Patrick's parents?" Terri Diaz, the AP Physics teacher asked, grinning slyly.  
  
Sydney turned to look at her friend, surprised. "How'd you know?"  
  
"Please Lily, gossip travels faster than you can say the word," Terri laughed, helping herself to a cup of warm coffee. She then sat down next to Sydney on the battered couch.  
  
"So, how was it? Spill," Terri said, turning her chocolate brown eyes on Sydney.  
  
"I'm sorry - I have to grade these papers - " Sydney hedged, although she knew Terri wasn't going to let her off the spot.  
  
"Screw 'em. You don't always have to be so punctual and hand them back their essays the next day," Terri chided. "Well? What are you waiting for? Tell!"  
  
"Don't make me ask Patrick," Terri warned, interrupting Sydney's protests.  
  
Sydney relented. "Fine. It was good. His father can really cook. That's it. Now can I get back to my work?"  
  
"What? That's it? How pathetically boring is that? C'mon Lily, you're going to tell me when he finally asks you to marry him, right?"  
  
Sydney stared at Terri. "What makes you think that will happen?"  
  
"Oh please. You two have been going out for years. There has to be an end to this endless dating. Either you two get married, or break up," Terri said patiently. "That's human nature. Like Newton said, things tend to stay in motion unless acted upon by an outside force. You two will keep on dating unless something happens. Obviously."  
  
Sydney rolled her eyes. "Hm, let me guess. Newton's First Law of Motion? Inertia."  
  
"Don't you roll your eyes at me Lily Brown," Terri scolded. "And yes, it is inertia. How'd you know?"  
  
"Hey, just because I'm an English teacher doesn't mean I don't know my physics," Sydney joked.  
  
"You don't want to marry Patrick, do you?" Terri said suddenly.  
  
Sydney looked at Terri suspiciously. Thank god no one else was in the bare teacher's lounge. How could she tell? Am I that obvious? Sydney asked herself.  
  
"Hm?" Terri prodded. "I'm not accusing you. I'm just stating things as I see them."  
  
"You're right," Sydney admitted. "In fact, I never once thought about, well . . . being married to him. It never crossed my mind."  
  
"My grandmother always said I had an intuition like none other. I don't know how true that is, but I can just tell that you don't love Patrick - like potential husband-wife love," Terri said quietly. "There's someone else, isn't there?"  
  
Sydney was quiet.  
  
Apparently, that gave Terri her answer.  
  
"Well, it's good you don't think of him in that way. I think he's been seeing someone," Terri responded bluntly.  
  
"What?" Sydney asked shocked, although it didn't matter much. What mattered, was her pride.  
  
"Some woman named Gabriella Dickens. I've seen them at the movies together a couple of times. The new James Bond movie, The Ring, and um . . . another one. I don't remember," Terri offered.  
  
The new James Bond Movie? Sydney thought angrily. She and Patrick had seen that movie together - and here he was, watching it with his other girlfriend? Patrick had said something like, "Bond is a lucky man - to have a strong yet amazingly beautiful woman." Sydney had shook the comment off as a common male comment.  
  
"What does this Gabriella do for a living?"  
  
"I've heard talk that she's in the FBI. I'm not sure, but all sources say that the gossip is correct," Terri stated in an official tone. "I'm sorry."  
  
"About what?"  
  
"Patrick. And his girlfriend. I didn't think he was the type. You know, after almost two years," Terri said apologetically.  
  
"It's all right. I wasn't overly serious about him," Sydney shrugged it off. "But still, he didn't have to go cheating on me behind my back. He could have at least broke it off with me."  
  
"But men don't think that way. Especially one as good-looking and charming as our Mr. James," Terri said sarcastically. "The more women they acquire, the better their status in the world."  
  
All men except Vaughn, Sydney thought. The thought kept popping up in her brain. Not a day passed that she didn't think about Vaughn and what might have been. Vaughn was a "one-woman" person. He had good morals, great manners, a very good and attractive personality, and an extremely fine outward appearance. Yet, he was not a "player." But then again, Sydney thought remorsefully. He could have changed in these past few years.  
  
"Well, I just wanted to give you the heads up. Hey, do you want to take up some martial arts classes? They're offering them free at the gym. It'd be a good idea if you wanted to beat Patrick senseless," Terri suggested, grinning.  
  
Sydney laughed. "Sure."  
  
Might as well touch up on my skills, Sydney thought. And what better to do that than with a friend?  
  
"Great! The first class is tonight at six," Terri announced. "I'll pick you up at five forty-five?"  
  
"OK," Sydney agreed, marking a big "92" on a neatly typed essay.  
  
"I'll see you. Oh, and remember, wear something comfortable. Something you'd work out in," Terri said, heading out the door with her empty cup of coffee.  
  
Patrick, Patrick, Patrick, Sydney thought. You wanted a government woman, huh? Someone who could bust a guy's chops with a gun? She gathered up the papers and stuck them in her brown binder. You don't know what you're missing, she snickered.  
  
Sydney glanced at her watch. 3:42. School was long over, but the Teacher's Lounge was where she got most of her work done after school hours. That gave her about two hours to do nothing with.  
  
--  
  
all done with the 5th chapter! 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6  
  
Sydney and Terri waited in the gym with about five other women. Glancing at her watch, Sydney noted that their instructor was late.  
  
"This is it?" Sydney whispered.  
  
"Probably. No one here likes fighting I guess. Or they actually have things to do at night," Terri replied, pulling her short brown hair into a tiny ponytail.  
  
Just at that moment, an extremely blonde woman burst through the doors.  
  
"All right!" she exclaimed. "Let's get started. I'm your instructor, -"  
  
"That's her!" Terri said in a low but excited voice.  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Before you say women cannot fight, just look at yourselves. You all want to learn. I already learned, so now I can pack a mean punch. It's extremely useful, especially in my line of business. I'm Gabriella -"  
  
"Dickens! Patrick's little woman off on the side! Um, do you want to leave?" Terri asked, disguising her question with a weak cough.  
  
"Leave? No, why? We can take her," Sydney joked, ignoring the dirty looks they were getting. What was so important about learning names anyway?  
  
"That's why we're here, so we can learn how to do just that," Terri replied from the corner of her mouth.  
  
"And you are?" Gabriella asked, staring pointedly at Sydney.  
  
"Lily," Sydney answered shortly.  
  
"Terri."  
  
"Great. Now, I brought along this video to give you a background on what you're going to learn these next few weeks," Gabriella explained, inserting the video into the VCR underneath the portable TV.  
  
With the lights dimmed, six women were staring intently at the screen - all except Sydney and Gabriella. Gabriella was examining her nails, while Sydney was examining her martial arts instructor.  
  
Dear god, Sydney thought, rolling her eyes. An FBI agent checking out her nails. How intensely boring. And useless. The only thing long nails are good for in the espionage business are for poking someone's eyes out. But even then, Marshall would have some gadget to do it for you, Sydney thought, smirking. Pupil extractors. Socket emptiers. Something.  
  
"Lily! Are you watching the video?" Gabriella called out, flicking a long pointer finger towards the TV screen. "You do want to learn how to fight off unwelcome attackers, don't you?"  
  
Sydney narrowed her eyes at the instructor, but turned towards the screen. What is her problem? I'm the teacher here. I tell kids what to do. But no one, and I repeat, no one tells me what to do, she thought angrily.  
  
Terri shot a sideways glance at her. She made a face at Gabriella before breaking out into laughter.  
  
Sydney stood there, wondering what was so funny. Apparently, the other women were wondering the same thing.  
  
The lights flicked on, and the TV screen darkened until it was black.  
  
"All right girls. Let's begin," Gabriella began, glaring at Sydney and Terri. She walked to the front of the room and peeled off her U of Michigan sweatshirt.  
  
Sydney decided not to show off her skills. Rather, she decided to brush up on her acting. She pretended to not understand each kick and punch. She even let a fist fly out, unrestrained, towards Gabriella.  
  
"Oops," she said, giggling. Inside, she was smiling like insanely. Then she stopped. This is so childish, she thought. But I can't stop now . . .  
  
"OK. Why don't you try the kick?" Gabriella suggested, rubbing her shoulder blade, where Sydney's punch had landed.  
  
Sydney did. Her foot almost hit Gabriella on the shoulder.  
  
"Oh, sorry . . . I used to do ballet," Sydney replied, turning red accordingly.  
  
"This is not ballet. Why don't you just watch the other people? Were you even paying attention to the video?"  
  
"Of course I was!" Sydney responded indignantly as Gabriella left.  
  
Terri snickered. "Guess I'm not the worst one here."  
  
Sydney laughed. "Yeah, what can I say? I can't be good at everything."  
  
--  
  
Gabriella poured herself a glass of Coke and headed towards the living room. As she turned to reach for the remote control, the phone rang.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Hey Gabby," a deep voice said warmly.  
  
"Patrick!" Gabriella smiled, forgetting about the television.  
  
"What's up baby?"  
  
"I should be asking you that. But guess who I met today."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"Lily."  
  
"Lily?"  
  
"Your little girlfriend. She's in my martial arts class. With Terri."  
  
Patrick was silent. "You sure Terri didn't recognize -"  
  
"Of course not. She never even saw us together."  
  
"She was there at the -"  
  
"It was dark."  
  
"So, how was she? Lily I mean."  
  
"At fighting? She kicked me a couple of times. Can't control her punches. No skill, no talent, no potential. She's better off in the classroom," Gabriella said snidely.  
  
"Well, I just called to see what my fighter Gabriella Dickens is doing tonight."  
  
"Why?" Gabriella purred.  
  
"I was planning on asking you to dinner," Patrick replied.  
  
"Ask away," Gabriella grinned.  
  
--  
  
"- so I was like, if your dog ate your homework, then . . . hello? Lily? Lily!" Terri waved a brown napkin in Sydney's face.  
  
"Huh? I mean, go on," Sydney blushed. "You got me. What were you saying?"  
  
"Hey, if you're thinking about Pa -"  
  
"I'm not."  
  
"Well, you're definitely thinking about something," Terri concluded. "Tell."  
  
Sydney shook her head. "It's nothing. Really."  
  
"Then why do you space out every other minute? It's not normal. But then again, things here in Jefferson, Michigan are never normal. But you just came here a couple of years ago. Couldn't have affected you so soon."  
  
"Terri . . . what in the world are you talking about?"  
  
"Seriously?" Terri asked, "I have no idea. But what is with you and keeping secrets? I tell you mine."  
  
"OK. Stop with the puppy dog face," Sydney laughed. She reached into her pocket for her cell phone, which was currently playing the song she had set it to ring at.  
  
"Hold on a sec," she said to Terri.  
  
"Hello?" Sydney asked, turning away from her friend and from the chatter of the other customers.  
  
"Um . . . Joey's Pizza?"  
  
-----  
  
So what'd ya think? =) 


	7. Chapter 7

This has got to be the shortest chapter. . .it's basically just the phone conversation, and it's not that good. But whatever. WAAAYY too much work and stressing over Christmas shopping. . . AH! But expect more chapters next week and the week after [vacation!!!]  
  
- Ah. . . my wonderful readers. Thank you! =) Don't worry, the Sydney vs. Gabriella thing is far from over. I think. I'm making up the airport and some names of places, simply because I have no idea what they are called, and I'm too lazy to check. Or some places may just be from my imagination.  
  
And p.s. I do not own anything here. Except for the characters that you don't recognize from the show [ex. Patrick, Gabriella, Patrick's parents, etc]  
  
Chapter 7  
  
Her hand froze. The small cell phone slid to her lap and onto the hard wooden seat of the booth, causing a sound. But Sydney was unaware of it all. Those two little words brought with them so many memories. They all came whirling back. Vaughn and the warehouse, Vaughn and the outdoor café, Vaughn and the bloodmobile, Vaughn and his suits, Vaughn and well, Vaughn. Vaughn offering her a Slush-O - how stupid she had been . . . declining the offer, his look of surprise and hopefulness when she asked him to the Kings game, his awkward speech that accompanied her Christmas present . . . It brought back the memories that she had willed to stay back in the backspaces of her mind. Memories of a man she would never be able to have . . . to claim as her own.  
  
"Lily?" Terri said slowly. "You dropped your phone."  
  
You just threw your beeper into the Pacific was what she heard.  
  
"Lily!" Terri said loudly, snapping her fingers in front of Sydney's face.  
  
"Who's - Oh, um, yes?" Sydney replied, feeling disconnected from it all.  
  
"Your cell," Terri said simply yet curiously.  
  
Sydney looked down at her lap and saw the blinking screen of her cell phone. It was still on.  
  
" . . . Hello?" Sydney said tentatively, half hoping it wasn't a dream.  
  
"Syd, it's . . . it's me," a familiar yet distant voice said hesitantly.  
  
" . . . Hey," Sydney forced herself to say in a perfectly normal voice. This is wrong, she thought. Saying hi to Vaughn as if we had just seen each other yesterday. Can't -  
  
"It's Sloane."  
  
"What?" It definitely was not Sloane. Sloane's voice was not soothing. Sloane's voice did not hold a strong masculine tone to it. Neither did it heighten Sydney's senses like Vaughn's did.  
  
"It's Sloane. He's there," came the not so hesitant voice now. His voice had taken on a bit of control and authority. She liked it.  
  
"Where?" Sydney asked, willing herself to remain calm. She flashed a smile at Terri and turned back to the phone conversation.  
  
"Michigan. We got the information from Detroit International just yesterday. Our man there spotted a Sloane-look-alike exiting from a terminal, and we're not taking any chances. We've got people going over the security tapes, and Devlin wanted me to alert you about this. Just be on the lookout," Vaughn finished.  
  
Devlin wanted me to alert you about this . . . So he hadn't called because he wanted to. He called because he was under orders.  
  
"Well, thank you very much for the notice," Sydney replied, a bit stiffly.  
  
She pressed the end button of her cell phone, but not before she heard his trademark phrase, "Be careful." 


	8. Chapter 8

Ya know what? I have the best readers here. I know it's been a while, and uh, sorry!! I just had the biggest writer's block ever . . . and I don't think it's gone yet. *you might have to reread the whole thing to remember what this is about . . . lol . . . and this might be a little short. I need to ease back in to writing  
  
  
  
  
  
Chapter 8  
  
"So, who was it?" Terri asked, picking up another French fry.  
  
"Salesman . . ."  
  
"I hate those people. They just annoy me so much."  
  
"Yeah," Sydney replied slowly. Her mind was still at pause. Then she shook herself mentally. Get a grip, Bristow . . . Sloane's here. He might get to your friends . . .  
  
--  
  
"Be careful," Sydney said without preamble.  
  
Terri stopped, her hand resting on the door handle.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Be careful," Sydney repeated. "You know . . . it gets crazy during this time. The crazed Christmas shoppers and all."  
  
Terri grinned. "Well, I could use my newly learned skills to knock 'em down."  
  
Sydney laughed, relieved. "I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
After staying in front of Terri's house for a few more minutes, she turned out of Terri's driveway and back onto the dimly lit road.  
  
--  
  
"Miss Brown?"  
  
"Yes?" Sydney turned from the blackboard.  
  
"When's the essay due?"  
  
"Next Tuesday."  
  
"What's it supposed to be about again?"  
  
"Trevor, I have only answered that question five times," Sydney replied, exasperated.  
  
"I'm sorry," came the genuine response.  
  
Sydney sighed and said, "The composition is about appearance versus reality. Anything that happened to you that pertains to the topic."  
  
"Appearance versus reality?" called another student.  
  
"OK. What happened to my attentive students?" Sydney questioned seriously.  
  
"They're too excited over vacation," Trevor responded, tapping his pencil eraser against the desk.  
  
"And I'm not? OK. Appearance versus reality. Just what it says. You write about an event in your life - I'll give you an example. Let's just say there's this girl who's going out with a guy. He seems like the perfect guy, until she catches him with another girl. There's appearance versus reality for you. The guy isn't what she thought he was. Of course, there are better examples, but the bell's going to ring soon, and I want you to copy all this down," Sydney announced.  
  
Just then, the bell rang. The students filed out of the classroom haphazardly.  
  
"Bye, Miss Brown."  
  
--  
  
"You assigned them an essay? Now?" Terri asked incredulously, looking up from a test she was grading.  
  
"So?"  
  
"So?" Terri repeated. "Hello, Lily! It's less than two weeks till the holiday vacation! Do you want to be swamped with work the whole time?"  
  
"Ya know, that makes sense," a male voice interrupted.  
  
"Patrick," Sydney said before she could stop herself.  
  
"What's up hun?" he grinned, unwrapping his lunch.  
  
"Oh, nothing," Sydney replied lightly, turning towards Terri, who rolled her eyes.  
  
"Where were you last night?"  
  
"Why?" Sydney retorted, not liking his tone of voice.  
  
"I called," Patrick replied patiently.  
  
And what? Am I supposed to stay home all day just because I think you might call? Sydney thought angrily. Out loud, she said sweetly, "Oh, I probably went out."  
  
"Probably?" Patrick raised his left eyebrow.  
  
"Well, when you called, I could either have been anywhere in my house, not wanting to pick up the phone, or it could have been later . . . when I went out," Sydney responded nonchalantly. "So what about you? What have you been doing these days?"  
  
"You just saw me yesterday," Patrick said slowly.  
  
"Well, then you saw me too. And why'd you call?"  
  
Terri stood up and stretched.  
  
"Guys, as entertaining as this is, I have to go. I'll see you later, Lily."  
  
Sydney nodded and waved goodbye.  
  
Patrick ignored Terri.  
  
"So? Why'd you call?" Sydney repeated impatiently.  
  
"Can't I call to check up on my girlfriend?"  
  
"Oh please," Sydney scoffed. "Don't make it sound as if we're the students here."  
  
"What are you talking about? What's up with you, Lily?" Patrick asked, half-curiously, half-angrily.  
  
My name is NOT Lily! Sydney fought the urge to scream.  
  
"Why are we having this conversation?" Sydney questioned.  
  
"OK. Fine. Listen. I called you last night because my parents want you to come over again. Tomorrow night. Dinner. Can you make it?" Patrick sighed.  
  
"Tomorrow night?"  
  
Patrick nodded.  
  
"Well -"  
  
"Please, Lily? My parents love you - almost as much as I do. But in a whole different way, of course," Patrick said quickly.  
  
Sydney stifled a snort, but she relented.  
  
"Fine. Tomorrow night."  
  
"Seven o'clock. I'll pick you up," Patrick offered.  
  
"Nah, it's all right. I'm a big girl. I can drive myself."  
  
"But -"  
  
"I'll be careful. Oh hey, did I tell you I've been taking martial arts classes?" Sydney said deliberately.  
  
"Our teacher is like superman," she praised, half gagging on her own words. She watched Patrick for any signs of recognition.  
  
"Uh, really? Superman . . . " he said uncomfortably.  
  
Gotcha, Sydney snickered.  
  
"So um, I'll see you tomorrow?"  
  
"Are you OK?" Sydney asked, watching him pick up his sandwich.  
  
"I'm fine. I got hall duty," Patrick replied hesitantly.  
  
Is that guilt I hear? Sydney thought. Then she herself felt a pang of guilt. Was it right to play mind games? But - screw him, Sydney rolled her eyes. He deserves it.  
  
"Hall duty? The period's almost over," Sydney responded, glancing pointedly at the clock hanging on the wall.  
  
"I have to go . . . to the bathroom," Patrick said, flustered.  
  
Sydney almost laughed out loud at his appearance.  
  
"With your sandwich?" she called, right before the door closed behind him.  
  
It was then that she let out her giggles, and collapsed on the sofa.  
  
---  
  
OK. THAT WAS pathetic. Sorry!! I felt that I had to get SOMETHING out soon . . . and it sucks. 


	9. Chapter 9

"What?" Will's angry voice filtered through the receiver.   
  
Sydney winced. "Look. I can handle it. I guess . . . In a way, I was using him too."  
  
"S - um, Lily, come on. Patrick is a bastard, and you know it. So now, the question is, why are you going to dinner at his house again?"   
  
Sighing, Sydney glanced down at her watch. 6:45. Patrick was coming to pick her up in fifteen minutes.   
  
"You know, just because their son is a "bastard" doesn't mean that they themselves should be cast aside because of it."  
  
"You are way too nice for your own good," Will groaned.   
  
"Damn," Sydney breathed. "I gotta go. I'll talk to you later, k? Tell Fran that I love her."  
  
"Will do. And don't forget, we love you too. And dump that good for nothing son of a bitch," Will instructed.  
  
"All right. Bye!" Sydney said with a laugh.   
  
--  
  
"Wow . . . you look stunning," Patrick smiled, opening the car door for her.  
  
"Thanks," Sydney replied. "But you just saw me in these clothes in the morning . . ."  
  
"Are you sure? You look different for some reason," Patrick responded, studying her.  
  
It's your guilt talking, Sydney thought, half-snickering. "Yeah. I'm sure."  
  
"Well, all right then. I hope you like Italian food," Patrick started, driving down the street.  
  
"I love it," Sydney said. "Is that what we're eating for dinner?"  
  
He nodded. "My father insisted on cooking when he found out you were coming."  
  
"Didn't you say your parents wanted me to come?" Sydney asked suspiciously, narrowing her brown eyes slightly.  
  
"Uh, yes I did as a matter of fact. But they weren't sure you were actually going to come. They know how we "kids" these days don't like spending time with parents and stuff," Patrick responded, not taking his eyes off the road.  
  
Sydney nodded, and leaned back in the leather seat.  
  
--  
  
"So, Lily . . . before we go in, I have to ask you something. I hope I don't sound too abrupt or even rude, but I have to ask," Patrick began, leading her onto the porch.  
  
"What is it?"   
  
"I've been curious ever since you've brought it up the last time you were here," he started. "Who was your fiance?"  
  
"My - my fiance?" Sydney stammered, caught off guard.  
  
He nodded. "You mentioned him the last -"  
  
"I know. He . . . his name was David. David Jones."  
  
"If this is too hard for you, you don't have to answer this, but I want to know everything," Patrick sighed, leaning on the railing.   
  
"Oh, no, it um, it's not - I mean, it's been a while now, but wow. You kinda caught me off guard. Um, just ask any questions I guess."  
  
"How did you two meet?"  
  
"It was at college. He was a pre-med student. I, being the klutz I am, tripped on the curb, and ended up in the university hospital. He was my doctor," Sydney responded, wiping the hair off her face.   
  
"How, how did he die?"  
  
"He was driving down the street - actually, he was just leaving my house that night. It was raining, and his car slipped and crashed into a tree," Sydney said hesitantly, looking away.   
  
--  
  
"What took you two so long?" Nancy questioned, closing the door behind them.  
  
"We got stuck in traffic," Patrick said quickly, glancing at Sydney quickly.  
  
Sydney nodded and smiled when Nancy turned to look at her. But inside, she was thinking, he needs to brush up on his lying skills. . .   
  
Nancy sighed. "There are way too many vehicles on the road these days . . . Well! Get settled, watch some TV, talk, and I'll be right back."  
  
"Why couldn't you just tell her what we were doing?" Sydney asked, following Patrick into the living room.  
  
"Because."  
  
"Because what?"  
  
Patrick looked around uncomfortably. "She told me not to ask - but I was curious."  
  
"Oh, I know all about you intellectuals, curious about everything," Sydney responded, expertly adding a slight sarcastic tone to her voice to disguise her true thoughts.  
  
"Well, you're a so-called intellectual too."  
  
And with that, Patrick grabbed her hand after they sat down on the sofa. "I'm sorry if I was out of line before, when we were outside. . ."  
  
"Oh, no, it's fine," Sydney replied. A feeling she never thought she'd feel again rose up in her body. The same feeling she got whenever Sloane put his hand on her shoulder. The feeling of disgust. I didn't come this far to revert back to my old ways, did I?  
  
--  
  
"That son of a bitch," Sydney sighed into the phone.   
  
"If you say that, then why don't you break up with him?" Terri asked nonchalantly.  
  
"Because. I'm not letting him off the hook. No one cheats on me and plans to get away with it. Do I sound threatening?" Sydney laughed. "Good. I plan to be just that. And hey, I mean, why give him the pleasure of being able to be seen around in the public with "Gabriella" when I could make him miserable? OK. I'm kidding about making him miserable."  
  
"Why? Make him miserable. That guy has it coming."  
  
"If he wants to, he can break up with me. I'm perfectly capable of taking it. But, it's his problem if he doesn't," Sydney grinned.  
  
"You sound like you have a plan up your sleeve," Terri commented.  
  
"Maybe I do. Or maybe I don't. I don't know . . ."  
  
"Well, we got class tomorrow," Terri responded. "I hope you've been practicing . . . I'd love to see you kick the shit out of our wonderous teacher."  
  
Sydney laughed. "In due time . . . Wait, hold on a sec. Someone's calling the other line."  
  
"Hello?" Sydney asked, listening to the static on the other end.  
  
"You're in trouble."  
  
"Va - what kind of trouble?" Sydney asked cautiously. Her joking nature had dissolved in seconds.  
  
"There's a van by the corner waiting for you. It's standard. He's in your neighborhood." 


End file.
